Waking Up Is The Hardest Part
by DeeDeePicklez
Summary: Rachel didn't know what was happening to her, suddenly overcome with a heady sensation that flowed through her entire body, setting every nerve ending on fire. It was intoxicating being so close to him again, the mix of the alcohol and Finn underneath her fingertips made her dizzy in the best possible way.


_Waking Up Is The Hardest Part_

She is laughing at some ridiculous joke Brittany is telling and she's drunk. Hence the laughing at Brittany, she takes another sip of punch, only to see Brittany make another silly face. She snorts a little and turns her face to the side holding her hand over her mouth so she doesn't spit everywhere.

Of course, that's when she sees him.  
Choking back her drink, and wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, she uses two hands to grasp her red cup, trying to regain some sort of control over her body and hoping to not to send the cup she just filled flying onto Santana's white carpet.  
He smiles at her meekly, raising his own cup towards her in a shy and modest greeting.  
She can feel her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide open in obvious shock, but can't seem to do anything about it; she's never been an alert drunk.  
Finally, she manages to close her lips and send him a small smile in return. She realizes that Brittany is still jabbering on, and the bass of the music is pounding under her feet, but she can't seem to hear anything.

There are so many questions in her head, it's like they're all battling each other for the chance to be heard. She imagines they are bee's swarming viciously around her head, angry and relentless and painful, stinging her scalp and eyes and ears. Why is he here? How many months has it been? When did he get that new shirt? Who is that guy he's talking to? Why is he in Lima? How much more will I need to drink to make this okay? How long have I been staring?  
That's her last coherent thought before she has to run. She opens the first door she sees and finds herself in a random bedroom. Trying to steady herself, she places both hands on the dresser and takes deep breaths.  
It's too much. All of it. Leaving him and seeing him and loving him. It's too overwhelming and confusing and excruciating and-

The door opens abruptly, and he enters as though it's a secret. Opening the door only enough to squeeze past and shutting it behind him.  
"Rach." he murmurs, setting his drink down on the dresser  
She follows his hand and wonders whose dresser that is, and whose room this is, she knows it isn't Santana's or her brothers but-  
"Rachel." he says again  
She turns her head to him slowly, giving him her attention.  
She can see the emotions chasing each other in his eyes; he looks so pained and guilty. It feels like seeing him without his skin, like looking into his soul, it makes her feel woozy. She can't decide if the urge to vomit is from seeing him after five months of silence or from the four cups of Santana's punch she drank earlier.  
"What are you doing here Finn?" She finally asks  
His face lightens a little now that she's finally spoken, and he even manages the ghost of a smirk, "Santana invited me."  
She looks up at him through her lashes, part of her aching to indulge in this banter with him, the other half furious at his cavalier attitude.  
She brushes the bangs out of her face and eyes him seriously, "In Lima, Finn. What are you doing in Lima?"  
He closes his eyes and sighs, knowing this was coming. Was it so much to ask for this to be easy? He opens his arms wide as though he doesn't know what to say, "I- it's Christmas." He croaks, shrugging his shoulders, recognizing it's the kind of shitty answer she won't want to hear.  
She doesn't push him further though, instead taking a moment to really look at him. He's wearing a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark jeans that aren't as baggy as he used to wear; it makes him look more mature. It's not exactly a three piece suit, but it's not a striped hoodie either. He doesn't look like he's in high school anymore; the thought makes her stomach lurch. He looks like a college student, like all the nameless faces she walks by everyday at NYADA. She wonders if she still looks like a student at McKinley. She tries to visualize what she looks like through his eyes.

She's wearing jeans, which must be shocking to start with. Her wardrobe transformed significantly upon her move to New York. Partly because Kurt can't stop insisting she looks like she's in Kindergarten, partly because she felt like a tourist roaming the frenzied, dirty streets of the city looking like she was trotting along in her Sunday's best. And lastly, and most importantly, she couldn't shake the feeling that her old clothes were just costumes from a life left behind the day he put her on that train.  
"Kurt got it for me." he says, gesturing to his shirt. She sends him a nervous smile, only to look away from him once more. Feeling the sudden urge to guard herself from him, alarmed at his response to something she didn't say out loud. What else does he know?  
Despite the loss of eye contact, he labors on "He said I need a wardrobe that doesn't look like it belongs to a '11 year old Gap model'. " he quips using finger quotes  
She smiles a little, still looking at the ground, when without warning, one of those swarming questions festering inside thrusts into her throat.  
"Have you been with anyone else?" she blurts  
He looks at her wide eyed for a moment, taken aback, but recovers quickly, his face returning to the casual and impervious look he practiced in the mirror before coming here.  
He rubs his hand over his face, "Rach-" he stalls, sitting down on the edge of bed  
"Have you?" she questions again, taking slow strides to reach him

Once she is in front of him, she places both hands on his shoulders. She's always loved standing above him like this, relishing in the rare opportunity to be the one with the height advantage; to be in control of their kisses, their touches, their _everything_.

She can hear his shallow breathing, punctuated by a few loud gulps, no doubt trying to calm himself down from their close proximity.

Rachel didn't know what was happening to her, suddenly overcome with a heady sensation that flowed through her entire body, setting every nerve ending on fire. It was intoxicating being so close to him again, the mix of the alcohol and Finn underneath her fingertips made her dizzy in the best possible way.

"Have you?" she repeated, letting her hair fall forward around them

"No."

His response was all she needed to let the last of her hesitation fall away, sealing her lips on his the instant the word fell out of his mouth.

It was like a shift in the universe, for a sudden and fleeting moment every wrong seemed to right itself as she moved her lips certainly over his hesitant ones.

He turns his head from her, his forehead creasing and he begins to shift, moving to get away.

She grips his shoulders tighter. He opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off, "Don't" she whispers, "Just don't."

He knew it was wrong. That it would do nothing to help either of them. That it would be foolish and reckless, and she's drunk and so is he but- but he can't imagine anything feeling as right as this. Even though there was so much that was _wrong_; the sight of her leaning on his shoulders above him, the feel of her lips against his, the smell of her hair, her neck, her everything… couldn't be more _right_.

He looked up into her eyes, his resistance fading at an alarming rate, and nodded ever so slightly.

And that was it; the most miniscule tilt of his neck was like a starting gun. Rachel lunged at him, pushing him onto his back. She grabbed the back of his neck, forcing his lips close to hers until it hurts.

He pushes his tongue into her mouth, it's all so needy and sloppy and he can't get enough of her, overwhelmed with the need to memorize everything once more.

When she finally pauses to take a breath he takes the opportunity to move higher on the bed, motioning for her to follow him. Rachel crawls towards him, her eyes hooded with desire, pulling off her shirt and tossing it on the ground just before reaching him. Picking up where she left off, she plunges her tongue into his mouth and reaches down to unbutton his shirt.

He shrugs it off when she's finished and lifts his arms to help her remove his undershirt. Her reaction is immediate, running her hands over his bare chest before his shirt can even hit the floor. Her nails graze his warm skin, the sensation forcing a loud moan from his throat.

He feels helpless beneath her, like anything she does could send him flying over the edge. An hour ago it was overwhelming to know he was in the same house as her, and now she is straddling him, revealing her bare chest and moaning into his mouth, it made it hard to remember to breathe in and out.

He presses his hands to her breasts and she had to suppress the urge to cry out in pleasure. She moves to unbutton his pants and he lifts his hips to help her. Once she removes them, he flips them over, needing to regain control before his excitement puts an abrupt end to this entire thing.

They're both panting into each other's mouths, their bodies vibrating with need. But he forces himself to stop and lean up on his elbows, staring at her, taking a moment to drink her in.

He looks at her so sincerely it makes her insides constrict. Because no matter what had happened between them, even though he had forced her to leave, even if these last couple of months had been the most painful of her life…he was still Finn. He could still find a way to make her feel cherished. The look on his face in this moment made all the excruciating grief worthwhile. Never once had she been before him like this and not felt beautiful. He looked defenseless at the sight of her, as if just looking at her was enough to strike him dumb.

He was hypnotized by the vision of her, and it could've been hours spent there, breathless and sweaty and lost in her eyes. But finally she whispers, her eyes desperate, "Please, Finn. _Please_."

Without another word, he pushes into her, because he can't _really_ deny her anything, and because he can't remember needing anything more in his whole life.

It's quick and frantic. She cries out his name and he whispers hers into her ear. It feels like there's a ticking clock in his head, a reminder that this is all temporary and who knows how long he'll have to live off of this for. But he can't seem to slow down no matter how hard he tries. He spills inside her, moments after she reaches her own peak. Their breathing is ragged, chests thumping against each other in an uneven rhythm.

He starts to get that sinking, sobering feeling in his stomach, like everything good is suddenly coming to an end. He moves to get off of her and feels her hands gripping his back, silently asking him to stay a little longer. Finn grants her this because he thinks she probably feels it too, this sickening realization that the reality they live in, is still their reality.

Rachel hears a thud come from the hallway and it startles her back to her levelheaded brain. She remembers they are at a party, they are in someone else's house, on someone else's bed, she just had sex on someone else's bed… she just had sex with Finn.

She squirms away from him, feeling the panic rising within her. She puts her pants back on and throws his at him when she trips over them. Her bra is flung across the lamp shade shamelessly and it makes everything feel so dirty, like she's just been part of some sordid affair. The tears start to fall before she can even attempt to hold them back. Her shirt seems to have disappeared and she is becoming frantic as she searches for it, her chest heaving painfully. She looks up at him with wide, terrified eyes; he's still getting dressed, buttoning his jeans when he finally looks at her.

The desperate look on her face makes his stomach drop and he rushes towards her, dropping his t-shirt on the floor.

"Rachel, what-"

"I can't- I can't- Finn, I can't-"she gasps, holding her hand to her chest

She looks like she is going to collapse, so he grabs her before she has the chance. He falls back onto the bed, Rachel curled towards his lap. He holds her tight against him, ignoring the way it feels to have his skin pressed against hers, hoping her breathing will return to normal.

"No, I haven't seen her in a while." He hears Kurt's distant voice, and he knows what is about to happen before he has the chance to prevent it

"Rachel!" he bellows as he opens the door, "Rachel- oh. Oh my-" Finn can see him taking in each component of this mess, his expression changing with every realization. First Finn, shirtless and panicked, with Rachel in only her bra, both their shirts lying forgotten on the floor. Then the bed mussed and unmade, and finally Rachel, twisted in his arms struggling to breathe and crying uncontrollably.

He searches his mind for something to make this ok, but he can't come up with anything that makes any sense at all.

Kurt finally composes himself and makes a beeline for Rachel's shirt. He approaches the bed and gets on his knees in front of her, somewhat pulling her out of Finn's grasp and pushing the shirt over her head. "Rachel," he starts in a tender voice, "come on, Rach. I'm gonna take you home." He moves to stand up, taking Rachel with him.

"Kurt-"

"Don't." he says with his hand in the air. And they disappear out the door.

….

After he's rushed out of Santana's house, not bothering to say goodbye to any of his friends and fought off the urge to pull over and vomit he finally reaches home, half-hoping that Kurt brought her here instead of her house; no such luck. He glances into Kurt's room, racking his brain for a way to explain himself, but he doesn't really need to come up with anything because Kurt's not even there. He closes his eyes and shakes his head; she must still be in bad shape if Kurt is staying with her.

It's once he's finally stopped crying and berating himself that his exhausted body succumbs to sleep. Not long after, he feels the bed dip beside him.

He sees her clearly, her eyes swollen and tired, wearing her pajamas, slipping beneath the covers and pushing her body close to his without a word. It's _clear,_ he can see her distressed eyes staring into his own, he can feel her tiny feet tuck between his, smell her hair splaying against his pillow, but it feels like a dream. He's had it before and it always leaves his chest feeling hollow and his fingers itching to dial her number. He knows he should force himself to wake up, to take advantage of this lucidity and save his heart the pain, but all he can do is hold her close and hope this isn't a dream.

He wakes with a start, surprised to find her tucked in his arms. Breathing deep, relishing in her scent, her warmth, he clings to the wholeness he feels lying beside her. He watches her for a long time, scrutinizing every contour of her face, committing each and every inch to memory. He's shocked when he realizes its past 10, the Rachel Berry he knew never slept past 7 am.

It's as though she can feel him questioning her indulgence, opening her eyes just after he completes the thought.

"Hi." She croaks, voice still drowsy with sleep. She looks so _content, _and it guts him to realize that she hasn't woken to full consciousness yet. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, waiting for her to become aware that waking up like this is no longer normal. He swallows as he watches her face register understanding.

"Was it a dream?" she whispers, the hope in her voice making his chest constrict

He shakes his head, "No."

She closes her eyes and turns away, the sight of him too overwhelming just now.

She wanted to stay like this, to keep this moment precious for just a little longer. It was peaceful and comfortable and familiar. She knew it would change soon, tomorrow would come and the next day and then another day without him. This moment was safe though, this could not be touched.

"Can we just- pretend?" she asked, her voice almost too soft to be heard "Can it just be… _before, _just for a little?"

His eyes were sad as he listened to her, but he changed his face to go along with her wish, "So, I have to ask…. How did you get in here last night?"

She grinned, her cheeks blushing "Remember junior year when you told me about the spare key under the bunny statue on the front porch?" She giggled a little sheepish

He laughed, "I forgot how much of a stalker you are!"

"Finn!" she squealed, hitting him on the arm

"Ow! Jeez, I forgot how hard you could hit too!" She crossed her arms over her chest proudly, satisfied and enjoying their easy banter after so long.

He looked at her with sincerity, "It's nice to see some things haven't changed."

"Except for your sleeping patterns, apparently."

"What do you mean?" She questioned, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion

He looks at her like the answer is obvious, "I mean, you- sleeping til' 10! It used to be I couldn't get you to stay in bed past sunrise for anything!"

"Oh. Well I just- I mean that's not really… I still don't sleep late."

"But…"

"I guess I was just catching up. I mean, I don't- I don't really sleep well these days. Not until last night, at least." Her eyes are pleading, asking him without words not to make her explain herself.

He sighs understanding, "Tell me about it." He says "Tell me about New York, tell me about your life."

She takes a deep breath, shifting to sit up, "New York is- well, it's, it's wonderful. NYADA is filled with people who actually understand me and my desire to be the best. There's this vegan restaurant a block away from my dorm and they actually serve vegan food! Not like the pasta Breadsticks says is vegan even though it has cream and cheese!" He laughs, amused that she can continue this rant right where she left off last time.

"And there's this sweet older lady who works at the coffee shop on the way to my classes, I stop there most mornings and- it sounds silly, I know it does, but it feels like she's watching over me a little. Like a pretend grandma or something, I don't know. My classes are harder than in High School, but so, _so _interesting. It's like, in High School, I did well of course, but everything was so tedious and just so…mind-numbing! Now its like- like the things I'm learning about are just… _everything,_ you know?" Her face has brightened like he's never seen it before; her hands are animated, accompanying her story with flailing limbs. His insides warm at the sight of her so joyful about this.

She notices him smiling at her, "What?"

"Nothing, it's just- it's really good to know you're enjoying school so much. It…it lets me know I did the right thing." He says with a sad smile, nodding his head

He looks to her for a nod of agreement and she just shakes her head at him, a humorless laugh escaping her throat.

He scrunches his eyebrows, "You don't get it." She says, eyeing her fingers

"NYADA is great, I love my teachers and my classes, and New York is great. There are real vegan restaurants and places that stay open past 10 PM, and open minded people. But, Finn, it's not enough."

He knows where she's going and he shakes his head at her,"No." he says firmly "No, Rachel. This is it. This is the life you're supposed to be living; this is the life that you were meant to be a part of. This is the life that fits perfectly… this is how it would've been if you-" he chokes on the words, almost unable to speak them, "if you had never met me."

She scoffs at that, shifting to turn her whole body to his, "You're wrong, Finn." She tells him, shaking her head adamantly.

"Once upon a time my dream was all I had. I was young and alone and my talent was the only tangible thing I could hold on to or count on. It was the only way I was able to survive. But that isn't true anymore."

"Don't you see, Finn? I _want _New York to be enough. I _love_ my classes and my school and the old lady at the coffee shop, and I _wish_, Finn, God I wish so _much _that it was enough. Because then it wouldn't hurt to get out of bed every morning, it wouldn't feel like there were parts of me missing, it would be excruciating to come home for Christmas, but it is! It is Finn and it's not enough!"

He looks at her but doesn't know what to say, feeling helpless he wipes the tears on her cheeks and guilt bleeds through his entire body.

She grabs both his hands in her own as she continues, "New York is great Finn, but none of it could ever be enough without you. All of the singing and classes, all the vegan food and coffee shops, the stages and all the pretty melodies, none of it can fill your void in my heart."

"So yeah, I guess you're right, this is the life I would've had if I had never met you. But it's not enough because ever since I met you, my life has been so much more then I could have ever imagined for myself."

He takes her face in his hands; trying not to cry and trying to remember what made any of this make sense to him when he let her go.

"Rachel-" he whispers, trying to find his voice

"You love me right?" she asks, shaking his hands with her own

He shakes his head at her as though it's the dumbest question in the world, "Of course I love you."

"And you think I'm special right?" she smiling now, even through her tears

"The most special." He says with certainty, "You're one in a million."

"So then don't I deserve it all?"

He doesn't know what to say.

"I didn't think I did. I always thought all I had was my voice, my dream. But you showed me that wasn't true. Loving you and being loved by you has made me see that I can have it all. And I want it, Finn. I want it _all_."

"You asked me to surrender, to let go of you and follow my dreams and I did. But Finn, you were wrong. I don't need to let you go to chase my dreams; it doesn't have to be one or the other! So now, Finn Hudson, I'm asking the same of you. Surrender, Finn. Surrender to me- to us. Forget this ridiculous notion that dreams and love can't live in the same place."

"But there's still so much to figure out. I don't live in New York and we won't see each other, it's not exactly ideal and-"

She cuts him off with a kiss, "I don't care. And when have our circumstances ever been ideal?"

He rolls his eyes, he can't really argue with that.

He lets a loud whoosh of a breath and shakes his head in disbelief.

He kisses her again because he can. Because this isn't a dream, and because he knows that look of pure determination in her eyes. And because she wants it all, and Rachel Berry always gets what she wants.

He pulls her to sit back on the bed with him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Is it over?"

"Yeah, Rach." He whispers, kissing the top of her head, "It's over."

.

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Hope you enjoyed! Please review to let me know if you did! : )


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